Old Covington, Kentucky 

PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS 
OF AN OCTOGENARIAN 



Mrs. Eleanor Ghilds Meehan 



OLD COVINGTON, KENTUCKY 




Mrs- Eleanor Ghilds Meehan 









COPYRIGHT 1922 
ELEANOR CHILDS MEEHAN 



M 17 1922 

©CI.AH74r)l37 



^\^ I 




OLD COVINGTON, KENTUCKY 

"'Fond luciuory brings flic lic/hf 
Of other days around inc." 

N the mad and merry rush of the present 
age it may be that to a few remaining 
kindred souls these reminiscences of mine 

may be of interest. 

Sitting among some treasured rehcs 
of the past, memories both sad and sweet return 
to me. They carry me back to the time when ]:)ut 
a Httle child I was held in my father's arms to 
witness the marriage ceremony of a young lady 
who had made much of me, and record my first 
childish grief on being told that she must go away 
from me. 

A few years later that tender father's hand 
would lead me to where I learned to read — the old 
"White Mansion" in Covington where the Reverend 
Doctor William Orr then conducted a school. The 
grounds included the space between Fifth and Sixth 
Streets and between Russell and Alontgomeiy 
Streets. The latter was named for the Reverend 
Father Montgomery, pastor of the little Catholic 
Church on Fifth Street ; he also erected the White 
Mansion. 

A little west was the old Craig Street burying 
ground which was later removed to make room for 
the railroad that now spreads its tracks over the 
space where the "rude forefathers of the hamlet" 
slept. Going south on Craig Street it joined the 
Bank Lick Road at the Lexington Pike near which 
was the Drover's Inn conducted by Mr. Ashbrook. 
1'he cattle pens occupied the space now used by 
railroad tracks and the gatekeeper's outlook. As 
children on our way to school we timidly gauged our 



time in passing- the gates to gtiard against the rush 
of cattle and hogs l^eing driven to slaughter. 

Down the old Lexington Pike farmers brought 
their produce to market. The hills along the pike 
were co\Tred with forest trees and many grajie-vine 
swings were enjoyed along the creek that mean- 
dered along the northside now occupied by truck 
farmers. On the south side ran Willow Run. its 
pretty little cascades trickling down to the valley 
where, beside a great flat rock under an immense 
sycamore tree, there dwelt alone in his little cabin 
one of whom w^e whispered as "the hermit." One 
day a htmter came up into our little settlement, 
startling us by the announcement that he had found 
the old man dead, sitting in his chair, his faithful 
dog beside him. 

Where now are the tracks of the Kentucky Cen- 
tral railroad were ponds where, with bent pins, 
switch poles and brave spirits, we fished for the 
elusive mudcat fish and gathered walnuts and but- 
ternuts from the many surroimding trees. 

On our route to and from school, we passed 
through two orchards: one, just above what was 
then "High" Street, now Eleventh and I'ank Lick 
Road, and the other where the railroad freight 
depot stands at Eighth and Washington Streets. 
On High Street, now Eleventh, were immense 
grounds extending from Madison to Rtissell Streets, 
now also, alas, invaded by railroads, where stood 
the Baptist Theological Seminary — later, vSaint 
Elizabeth Hospital — and, at the w^estern end of 
the grounds the house occujMed l^y the college presi- 
dent, 'j'his house is still standing, but much 
changed. In the College grounds, as they were 
called, Sunday School picnics were held and the 
Fourth of July was duly honored by assembling for 
patriotic addresses and the reading of the Declara- 
tion of Tnde])endence. 



Where now is Austinburgh was the residence 
of Mr. Austin, near the Lickinc River. To visit 
there, the bars were let down at Madison and 
Fifteenth Streets and a charming woodland road 
led to the Austin property. In the Austin orchard 
I, as a little girl of ten years, was honored by 
coronation as Oueen of the May. My royal speech 
was written by the father of Mr. John Simpson, 
who is still living, an honored benefactor to chari- 
ties, and it is still fresh in my mind. But, alas and 
alack! my queenly dignity suffered on returning 
home from the festivities bv having to discard mv 
pretty new slippers, which Otway Norvell, also a 
ten-year-old courtier, carried home in his pocket, 
while I w^as escorted to my palace, the ro}'al chariot 
being the wagon which had carried the lunch 
baskets. 

In those days a little pleasure boat made trips 
up the Licking river to Cole's Garden, now occupied 
by various industries. The old Taylor Mill road led 
to Taylor's Mills, through what is now Latonia. At 
the Latonia Springs stood an Inn which was ((uite 
a fashionable resort and famous for Kentuckv 
hospitality. Time's "effacing fingers" have swept 
away all those beautiful and popular places. The 
Inn is gone and forgotten and the grand old woods 
opposite, that stood around the Springs, have long 
been leveled. 

As Covington had no ])ark, the Linden Crove 
Cemetery was the favorite Sunday resort. Reverent 
and social crowds would make a weekly parade to 
its quiet walks. The main avenue was bordered 
by stately locust trees whose blossoms in Mav bur- 
dened the air with their sweetness and lured the 
droning bees. At that time a large spring was at 
the foot of a hill where now a lake has been formed 
by the filling up of Thirteenth Street, necessitating 
the removal of the (iroesbeck family vault to higher 



gToiind. This recalls the old and beautiful, but 
rather g-looniy, Groesbeck mansion above where 
now the Newport and Covington bridge crosses at 
the end of Fourth Street. The quiet loveliness of 
old Linden Grove seemed desecrated by cutting 
through a street in the rear and the once bare hill- 
sides are now densely built up. 

In the early days it was customary, on the burial 
of a member of a fraternity, such as an Odd Fellow 
or Free Mason, to head the funeral cortege by a 
brass band inlaying dirges or sacred music on the 
approach to the cemetery, while the members in 
full regalia marched in procession. On the return 
from the cemetery, the music would be changed to 
lighter sound. Sunday was a favorite day. Now 
all is changed, as in many other affairs, and for the 
better morale of the street urchins, black and white, 
to whom these public funerals were a diversion. 
Dignity and solemnity now are more becoming. 

I remember once driving out with my mother 
and her cousin. Judge Samuel Moore, to the Kenton 
County seat at Independence in the settlement of 
my Revolutionary grandfather Gowdy's estate. 
Although the road led through a beautiful country, 
it was rough and rocky and we little dreamed then 
of the pleasant highway that has succeeded it. 

As time went on our lieloved and venerated Doc- 
tor W'illiam Orr built the new home for a school on 
the Licking River banks. The grounds took in all 
the space between Sixth and Seventh Streets and 
San ford Alley and the Licking River. At Seventh 
and San ford stood Doyle's Soap Factory, a modest 
aft'air, now the site of La Salette Academy. Back 
of it was a very deep hollow, now filled by Greenup 
Street. One evening in Winter an older companion 
and myself concluded to emulate Bonaparte cross- 
ing the Alps and plunged down into the deep snow, 
but to ascend the other side was a difficult question 



and had my companion been unal)le to assist me 
I should not l)c here now to tell the tale. We were 
disappointed in our aml)ition as was our hero. 

Another circumstance was particularly im- 
pressed on my memory. Our good preceptor always 
endeavored to have his i)upils give their minds 
through the week to the construction of their essays, 
regularly a Friday morning occasion. It seemed 
that a lioat, or they called it a ship, had been built 
and was to be launched at the foot of the school 
grounds, on the Licking River, for a trip to Cali- 
fornia. I suddenly remembered, here was Thursday 
afternoon and my essay due next morning. Tn 
consternation I seized upon the launching for a 
subject and recall my rather flowery description of 
gales and stormy seas with poor Jack aloft, but at 
last sailing in triumph into the summer land where 
gold awaited the Argonauts. My classmates thought 
it wonderful, and when I rose to read expected 
commendation, but our wise Doctor, after a sht^rt 
silence, gravely looked at me over his spectacles 
and his sarcastic criticism touched the others as well 
as myself when he reminded me that the injunction 
to make an essay a week's careful studv had been 
disregarded, as the launching had occurred only the 
day previous. 

To return to the topography of the city : On one 
corner of Pike and Scott Streets stood the Gies- 
bauer Brewery. It was a common aifair for us to 
stop at the door on our way from school for the 
brewer's yeast which made such delicious bread, 
the flour for which was ground at the McMurtry 
Mills on the Lexington Pike where now is the 
junction with Main Street. Opposite the brewerv 
on Scott and Pike Streets was a large hollow, then 
occu]Med b}- the open vats of the Le Alaire Tannery. 
Now, this is all filled and built over and the corner 
contains an oil lillini>" station. 



Following- Pike Street ii]) to Madison, on the 
southeast corner stood the general store, a frame 
building with shed in front, where Uncle Billy 
Wasson, as many called him, held forth, conspicu- 
ous for his portly form and kindly ways. Here was 
dispensed the usual "dry goods and groceries" and 
the questions of the day were discussed. On the 
opposite corner Mr. John White had a grocery; 
then followed the business houses of Mr. Mackoy, 
James Spilman, Robert Howe, Mr. Timberlake, the 
"saddle and harness establishment of Mr. Perkins, 
and other names known to old residents. 

On the west side of Madison Street stood a 
frame building, with old-fashioned porches — the 
X'irginia House. At the foot of Garrard Street was 
a tavern conducted by the genial and rotund Berry 
Connollev. The city jail, a s(|uare, unassuming 
building, stood at the junction of two alleys between 
Fifth and Sixth Streets, while close by was the 
wagon works of Mr. John Gray, w^iose daughter 
Ma'ry was one of Dr. Orr's pupils. 

On a short street between Bank Lick Road and 
the Pike stood a rope-walk. On Bank Lick and 
Ninth Street stood a pottery and we children were 
often attracted by the wonderful fashioning of 
pottery, as it grew under the turner's and molder's 
handset his bench, just inside the window. Adjoin- 
ing this was the residence of the owner, Mr. 
Thomas, I think an Englishman, the famous Log 
house, then a comfortable and well cared for dwell- 
ing. This recalls that other famous building, the 
old Kennedy Stone House of Revolutionary days, 
now demolished. 

Opposite Covington, across the Licking River, 
was the Garrison, from which every night at nine 
o'clock the reveille music and drum could be heard 
to the western hills. Now. I'ort Thomas has taken 
awav the romance, and the glory has dej-jarted from 



the banks of the Licking at the Point where the 
Indian war whoop once resounded and the "dark 
and bloody ground" received its baptism. But now 
our Chapter, the EHzabeth Kenton, Daughters of 
the American Revokition, is planning a memorial 
to the famous pioneer, Simon Kenton, and keep in 
mind the wonderful sacrifices of Kenton, Boone, 
and other kindred heroes. 

Old Covington also had wonderful fireworks 
displays from the ])yro gardens on ^ Fount Adams, 
near the point. 

On a hillside at the west end of Covington 
stands yet a house once occupied l)y the great 
tragedian Forrest, and on the Independence Pike 
a former residence of the great violinist Tosso. The 
old river road leading to Ludlow has been deflected 
and its curves remodeled to accommodate a trolley 
line. Old Willow Run is utilized as a sewer and 
soon all traces of the romantic old stream will have 
vanished. Wallace Place brings back Colonel Wal- 
lace, whose home seemed a plantation and \\hose 
military bearing was marked as he strode into 
church. Aly childish interest was always attracted 
by the old and venerated ^Ir. John Preston as he 
walked into church, one hand leaning on his cane, 
the other seemingly helpless. 

I remember when the late Trimble residence 
w^as erected by Mr. Phillip Bush, there was at the 
southeastern corner of Madison and Tenth Streets 
a pond, on the edge of which grew a tulip ])oplar 
tree ; the beauty and odor of its flowers remain with 
me. On the op])osite corner stood the residence of 
Mr. Sage, later of Dr. Henderson. It is still stand- 
ing-. The Alexander Greer homestead, on Lexing- 
ton Pike, in its large grounds was handsome and 
stately. The Robbins mansion stood where now 
is the Auditorium. The Groesbeck home has already 
been mentioned; the LeVassor home still is in the 



possession of Mr. Louis LeVassor. Where now 
stands the Richmond home at the west end of 
Eleventh Street was the Fowler farm, with ram- 
bling house and Indian mound, surrounded by great 
pine and forest trees. The Watkins home on 
Twelfth and Madison, with corner offices, has the 
main 1)uilding still standing, though remodeled and 
occupied by the Cathedral clergy. The solid, com- 
fortable home of Governor Stevenson still stands. 
Covington was rich in legal talent. I vividly 
rememl)er Mr. Septimus Wall, whose wife was the 
lovely, dainty Mary Finnell ; and Mr. Aston Ma- 
deira, who left the practice of law for the pulpit, 
as did Mr. John Spilman. Deeply was T impressed 
with the solemnity of the occasion when, on taking 
charge of his pulj^it the usual pledges were asked 
of him, and his grave response, "God helping me, 
I will!" Judge Samuel Moore, doubly related to 
me 1)y blood and niarriage, was of the old regime. 
Tall, erect, he seemed the embodiment of the law ; 
Judge Pryor, grave and dignified; Judge William 
Arthur ; Mr. Cambron, whose granddaughter is the 
wife of our prominent attorney. Judge Frank 
Tracy. There was Major Robert Richardson, pro- 
found student and able lawyer, whose literary abili- 
ties led one to think he should not have to be con- 
cerned with the sordid things of life, but browse 
among his books. His brilliant daughter, Miss 
Mary Cabell Richardson, resides in Covington, her 
facile pen still turning out eloquent periods and 
poetic thoughts. There was the witty Theodore 
Hallam, "Mister" he would be called, to distinguish 
him among the many Kentucky "Colonels." His 
name will ever be linked with that of "Marse 
Henrv" Watterson ; two wonderful typical Ken- 
tuckians. His cultured daughter inherits his won- 
derful talents and literarv abilitv : her delightful 



"talks" on travel and other subjects are always 
eag'erly anticipated by cultured audiences. 

Among- physicians, prominent was Doctor Theo- 
dore Wise, whose first wife was Virginia, the 
daughter of Squire "Jimmy" Arnold, whose palatial 
residence occupied much space in the west end of 
the city: Doctor Richard Pretlow, whose entrance 
into a sick room inspired confidence and courage 
in the patient; Doctor Evans, the distinguished 
surgeon, whose death was much lamented; Doctor 
niackburn, whose residence on Fourth Street was 
that of a Southern gentleman, with servants' quar- 
ters in the rear. His daughter, Bettie, married the 
handsome young Doctor Dulaney, now among the 
departed. There was Doctor Major, whose pretty 
sister, Kate, was my childish ideal of beauty. His 
son Thomas was a Sunday School companion, and 
I used to look at his pale, spiritual face and men- 
tally prophesy, "Tom Major will, sometime, enter 
the ministry." Time went on — came w^ar between 
the North and South ; he espoused the Southern 
cause; was sick, wounded, brought to Cincinnati, 
where he shared the ministrations of two noble 
women who literally obeyed the Divine injunction 
to 'Visit the sick and prisoners," Mrs. Esther Cleve- 
land and Mrs. Peter of Cincinnati. With the zeal 
of converts, they interested him in spiritual afifairs. 
He became a Catholic and a priest, by dispensation, 
having been a soldier, and "Father Tom," as he 
was affectionately called, was the idol of his fellow 
Confederates. 

Among prominent merchants were Mr. John B. 
Casey, in dry goods; Mr. W. D. McKean, in foot- 
wear; Mr. Charles Withers, in tobacco; Mr. Robert 
Ball, in foundry work ; Mr. Isaac Martin, in lumber ; 
the Walker Brothers, in dry goods; Mr. George 
McDonald, in jewelry; Bodeker and Aliller, in 
drugs and medicines. 



Among- real estate people were Mr. Levi Daugh- 
erty; Mr. John Clayton, whose uncle, Mr. Young, 
was once postmaster ; Mr. Isaac Cooper, whose call- 
ing descended to his son and grandson. 

Prominent among- Covington citizens was Mr. 
John Goodson, Sr., whose daughter Jane married 
the rising young lawyer, JohnCarlisle, whose talents 
carried him into the office of Secretary of the United 
States Treasury under President Cleveland. 

Among mv pleasant memories is that of the 
pastor of our Presbyterian Church, the Reverend 
James P)ayless. 1 happily recall the occasions when, 
sometimes at the close of his sermon, he would 
announce, "There will be i)reaching- this afternoon 
at Casev's schoolhouse." This meant to us children 
a long ride out the Lexington Pike to the place, a 
long, white building near the Turkey Foot Road, 
still standing, luit converted into a dwelling. ^Ir. 
Bayless' chaiming wife had a number of us chil- 
dren interested in missionary work and would 
assemble us at her home on Saturday- afternoons to 
learn to sew and hear her instructions. At her 
request, we began for her an "allium (|uilt.'" In the 
center of a nine ])atch the worker would write her 
name in indelil;)le ink. Should that little quilt be 
in existence now, how I should love to see it! This 
little circle, as the members grew up, met with ^Irs. 
William Ernst at her home, connected with the 
Northern Bank, and w'as, I suppose, the nucleus of 
the present "Sarah Ernst Sewing Circle." Mr. 
Bayless, the pastor of our Presbyterian Church, 
was an earnest and practical demonstrator of the 
doctrines he professed. Our then small congrega- 
tion felt the need of better housing and the Council 
Chamber of the Court House w^as placed at their 
disposal while a more sul)stantial edifice was being 
erected. Surmounting this court house w^as a 
wooden statue of George Washington. When a 



better court house took the place of the old one, this 
statue was taken down and placed in a corner of 
the court yard, where it stood a long time. My 
SMupathies were often roused at the sight of Wash- 
ington's effigy so neglected. 

Our congregation was comprised of many of 
the oldest families. I recall my admiration as a 
child, of the melodious voice of Mr. \\ illiam Ernst 
leading the singing in both Sunday School and 
church service. His sons remain Covington citizens, 
in commerce, banking and the law, Mr. Richard 
Ernst representing Kentucky at the National Capi- 
tol. The Kennedy family, pioneers on both land 
and river, is largely represented still, and known to 
all. Doctor Louise Southgate, a worthy exponent 
of womanly ability, and her brother Bernard are 
nephew and niece of one of m}^ loved schoolmates, 
Jennie Fleming, whose sisters married Dr. South- 
gate and Mr. Bedinger, respectively. Jennie's (juaint 
drollery was the life of our chosen group in my last 
schooldays. There were Rose and Mollie Pace, 
whose mother was a Kennedy, and little Lucy 
Southgate, of another branch, full of quiet mischief, 
who would meet a well-earned reprimand by an 
innocent, enquiring gaze and a drawling "Sir?" 

To return to our church. As our congregation 
increased a mission liranch was sent out to the 
southern end of the city, at first occupying an 
humble little brick opposite the Mackoy residence 
on Ninth and Madison Streets, while a modest little 
building was being erected for our occupation, and 
standing yet, I suppose, in the rear of a more pre- 
tentious one erected later, which now I believe is 
occupied by colored j^eople, while our congregation 
moved to ^ladison near Eleventh Street. In the 
first venture the Reverend Mr. Shotwell held the 
pulpit for awhile. 

Our choir was led by Mr. James Allen, the father 



of the late Doctor John Allen, and here Kate 
Menzies, lately deceased, sat beside me and we 
joined our voices in the hymns from the little old 
"Mason's Sacred Har]^," still held by me. Mr. 
Charles Mooar's fine tenor aided and the little 
mel(^deon was our accompaniment. I can yet see 
the various members in our little congregation. 
Judge Pryor's family sat near the pulpit; his daugh- 
ters, then unmarried, have become the heads of 
interesting families here. Mr. Robert Athey, then 
a handsome young gentleman, was an interested 
attendant and later married sweet little Lizzie 
Wallace. Our Wednesday evening prayer meetings 
were well attended, and dear, saintly old Mr. Men- 
zies, when asked to lead in prayer, would stand with 
upraised eyes and folded hands, imploring Divine 
blessings and protection, until one fairly imagined 
he saw the personal Presence he invoked. I had 
the pleasure lately of looking at his picture at the 
residence of his granddaughter, Mrs. Leslie Apple- 
gate, and my mind was carried back many years. 

But War's grim visage reared its head and all 
our quiet, simple lives were changed. The long 
delaved "irrepressible conflict" predicted by Secre- 
tary Seward was at hand. Kentucky's attempted 
neutrality was overcome. Our geographical i^osition 
denied us the right of choice. Then, as now, our 
ground was the "gateway to Dixie." Kentucky's 
"sacred soil" was invaded, property rights trampled 
on, families disrupted, neighbors looked askance at 
each other, where perfect harmony once existed. 
The dauntless John Morgan and Kirby vSmith kept 
the Northern occupants guessing, but at the turn 
of the Independence Pike a camp was placed and 
non-combatants were obliged to work on the fortifi- 
cations erected near the river. One day an alarm 
was sounded. One of our citizens, a gentleman of 
heavv weight, came flying into to\\n on horseback. 



"To arms! To arms! the rebels are advancing!" 
"Every man to his post!" Early citizens will recall 
the portly form of ]\lr. Alexander Greer as not con- 
ducive to expediting- the breathless horse he was 
urging frantically. In all our fright we could dis- 
tinguish a comical side, and the cjuery arose, "Is this 
a Paul Revere or a John Gilpin ride?" This was 
but a scare : but the alarm spread. To protect 
Cincinnati, Governor Todd of Ohio summoned his 
"squirrel hunters" to the rescue. A wire came to 
me from a sister in Ohio: "All of you come to me! 
The alarm bells are ringing and all is confusion!" 
But I held my post. God was with us here as well 
as there. Our streets were filled with passing troops, 
although we did not suffer from actual conflict as 
did some other parts of the state. The slightest 
approach to seeming disloyalty was to risk impris- 
onment. Sad to say, some, "clothed with a httle 
brief authority," presumed and persecuted unneces- 
sarily. The ferry boats were closely guarded. Sol- 
diers stationed at the wharves inspected bundles for 
contraband goods and sometimes with rather em- 
barrassing results. Once as some ladies were stand- 
ing with me to \\atch the troops pass our place to 
entrain, there was a whispered wish that the 
Southern troops were as well equipped. But a few 
days later a message was received that John Mor- 
gan's men had fallen on this regiment at Cum1)er- 
land Gap and caj^tured wagons, men, stores, guns 
and much that contributed to the comfort of the 
hungry Southern soldiers cut ofl:' by blockades. The 
pretty burgh of b^)rt ]\Iitchell occupies the spot 
where earthw^orks were thrown up and the lovely 
old Kentucky hills echoed, the rattle of musketry 
and drum. A ])ontoon bridge across the river was 
a novel sight. Many of our people now living can 
remember these sad occurrences. Although the 
"conquered Banner" fell, indeed, and the glorious 



Stars and Stripes float again over a united people, 
that "Banner" is enshrined in the lavender of faith- 
ful hearts. The music of "Dixie" hrings out the old 
"rebel yell," while all unite in singing- "The Star 
Spangled Banner." 

The unstained "S\\'ord of Roliert Lee" and the 
name of prayerful "Stonewall" Jackson stand in 
the honor light with Grant and Sherman. In trav- 
eling over the scenes of heart-breaking memories, 
the sight of a monument to "Stonewall" Jackson 
recalled an anecdote of war time. A sudden yell 
from the Southern lines at a time of cessation of 
hostilities brought a question from a visitor. The 
rej^tly was, "It is either Stonewall Jackson or a 
rabbit," as the sight of their beloved leader always 
evoked cheers and the little "cotton tails" some- 
times captured proved a welcome change in their 
poor diet. Again, while traveling in Virginia soon 
after the erection of General Lee's e(|uestrian 
statue, an ex-soldier with l)ut one arm was selling- 
souvenirs in the shape of bits of the rope on which 
even women and children had helped to draw the 
statue to its place. My husband made comment on 
the poor gentleman's loss of an arm. "Yessuh, 
yessuh, I was hit pretty hard, luit I thank God I 
lived to see the 'unveiling.' " 

However, many of our people rememlier these 
Civil War experiences, and so, before T close these 
reminiscences, T turn back once more to the days 
of childhood and girlhood. The old schoolroom! 
The beloved teacher in his usual chair ; each face in 
its familiar place — all are photographed on my 
memory. Particularly do I note the darling girl 
who was so long my deskmate, Amelia Ernst, who 
became Mrs. Robert Semple. There \\ as dear little 
Laurena Greer — later Mrs. William Simrall — can- 
tering in to school on her ])ony, accom|)anicd by her 
\wt dog; i^rettv little Bina b^innell. who always Icn'cd 



to converse on religious matters and the eternity to 
which she was early called; Amelia Fahnestock, the 
niece of our beloved Mrs. Ellen Ernst Orr, with her 
gentle influence over others less regardful of dis- 
cipline; Susan Roberts, whose children, Mr. Harry 
and Mrs. Olive Percival reside in Covington. There 
was Miss Mary Abell, an Ohio girl, whom we re- 
garded with a certain awe on account of a remark- 
ably able essay on political subjects which Doctor 
Orr gave to a newsi.)aper for publication. Quite a 
flutter was created one day by the announcement 
that little Aseneth Rose had eloped with the rosy- 
cheeked bachelor, Mr. John Todd, w-ho became an 
influential and wealthy citizen. There were Addie 
and Julia Hamilton, whose lovely mother was a 
frequent visitor to the school and to whom w-e were 
all attracted. There was pretty Hattie Fish, with 
her curly hair and red cheeks, later the mother of 
Mr. Leonard Smith. 

There were Sue and Fannie Murnan, mother 
and aunt of the Misses Sarah and Laura Creag'- 
head, and aunts of our distinguished surgeon, 
Doctor John Alurnan; Sallie Dell Perry, later Airs. 
Pope Sanford and lately taken by death from the 
side of her beloved life companion, who, from the 
grand, typical Kentuckian of years ago, now lingers 
in patient sufl^ering for the time when he shall meet 
her in eternity. 

A number of years ago I gathered together as 
many of the old schoolmates as I could locate for a 
late reunion. T drove around the school grounds in 
the hope of obtaining some water from the remem- 
bered w^ll which we once regarded as a panacea for 
anv ailment, in which to toast the past, but progress 
had cut a street through. I had a number of photo- 
grai)hs struck of the school and grounds from an 
old catalogue and at the plate of each "girl" placed 
a copy, with a touch of forget-me-nots. Tears and 



laughter greeted the remembered scene. We toasted 
the absent and loved widow of Doctor Orr, then 
living in Denver with her daughter, Mrs. Peters. 
We discussed from A to Z the names in an old 
catal(^gue brought by Laurena Greer Simrall. We 
sang old songs and had long-ago music, learned 
from the school instructors, FVofessor Kunkel and 
Madame Sofge. Dell Perry Sanford found she 
could remember the steps of the fancy dances in 
which she once excelled. 

"Marse Plenry" Watterson uttered a truism 
when he said, "Once a Kentuckian, aha'ciys a 
Kentuckian." He related the following anecdote in 
illustration: "General Grant once said to me, 'You 
Kentuckians are a clannish set. A\ hile I was in the 
White Plouse, if a Kentuckian ha])pened to get in 
harm's way, or wanted an office, the Kentucky con- 
tingent began j^ouring in. In case he was a Repub- 
lican, the Democrats said he was a 'perfect gentle- 
man;' in case he was a Democrat, the Republicans 
said the same thing. Can it be that you are all 
perfect gentlemen?' \Vith unblushing candor, I 
told him we were ; that we fought our battles as we 
washed our linen — ^ at home; but when trouble 
came, it was Kentucky against the Universe." 

After several years' absence I am returning to 
my old Kentucky hills, and so these memories come 
back to me. On the sunset slope of life 1 turn in 
retrospect. I see my father, grand and erect, the 
"noblest work of God, an honest man !" Undaunted 
by early financial reverses when irresponsil)le banks 
and other schemes undermined the home supports 
of unsuspecting men, he turned to face the world 
again, possessing the indomitable spirit of his \^ir- 
ginian forefathers. With his own hands he helped 
to fashion a home for his family and with large 
grounds renew the life, after hours, of his early 



home. Straii^^ht in the eye was his glance; ])lain his 
speech; he would owe no man a dollar. 

T see my gentle mother, hajjpy among her ilow- 
ers, fostering the Maryland traditions of herhs and 
roots, besides. I have yet a faded and l)roken 
remnant of a fragi ant lily she placed in my hand 
one day on leaving for school with her usual kiss at 
the gate and her ])recious lienediction. P.orn in the 
year of Washington's death, her accomiplishments 
were rare for the home training in those days. I 
have some bits of her excpiisite brush work, the 
coloring bright. Her manuscript poetry is treasured 
1w me as the 1)reathings of a pure and holy soul. I 
see the happy, carefree life of pioneer davs when 
children were children and not the grown-uj) wise- 
acres of the present. "Oh Time and Change!" 

I have had ex]ieriences of joy and sorro\\', as 
falls to every human lot, but I can turn to mv happv, 
innocent, fostered childhood, and to each succeed- 
ing memory, in gratitude for Divine aid and pro- 
tection and the comforting assurance that the loved 
ones who have preceded me into the "Silent Land" 
w'ill greet me when T too am called. 

Now^ I am returning to ni}- old Kentuck}' home, 
Kentucky, where "the sun shines ever brightest, 
life's burdens are the lightest, the blue grass is the 
bluest." 

I believe there are some among our ])eo])le who 
will recall the "Covington Female Seminary" as it 
appeared years ago before it was sold to Mr. Bruce, 
the brother of Mr. Henry Bruce, and among the 
students there, remember their old classmate, 

Nrij.i1': Cini.Ds. 

Mav 3, 1922. 



STEWART & KIDD PRESS 
CINCINNATI, 0. 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



014 571 236 1 



